


fall away

by newtmasterek



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Alcoholism, Anxiety, College, Graduation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, bisexual!miles, confused!zig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5907952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasterek/pseuds/newtmasterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles can't come to terms with the past abuse from his father, even though it's graduation and his father. He turns to alcohol and an unlikely friend for help. When Miles scares his new friend off, he goes down a terribly dark path.</p><p>AKA</p><p>Graduation. Miles suffers from anxiety and alcoholism. Zig tries to help. Miles ruins everything.</p><p>Titled from the song Fall Away by twenty one pilots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. before the ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> I feel really really good about this plotline and this story in general. I absolutely love *love* the idea of Miles and Zig together. I wanted to write a really complex, emotional story relating to Miles' mental health and include Zig/Miles. It might be slow burn / angsty for a while but it will get there eventually.

Miles had warned his dad not to come. He begged his mom for hours to talk him out of coming, but she always came back with the same excuses.

"You're his eldest son. He has to see you graduate!"

Or "You're off to live your life now. Who knows when he'll see you again?"

Or even "He's your father. You wouldn't have made it this far without him."

"I wouldn't have made it this far without him, huh?" Miles had snorted at his mother's attempt to defend his father. _I wouldn't have become dependent on alcohol and pills, or wake up screaming almost every night, or have that scar above my eyebrow if it wasn't for him either,_ he thought. But he wouldn't dare say it out loud. He'd never talk about his feelings unless it's absolutely necessary. "I don't owe him anything," he retorted through his gritted teeth.

 

Today was the day where he'd find out if his mother cared about him at all. She knows about the panic attacks Miles gets when his father's around. The fear, the paranoia, the anxiety. She knows what his presence does to Miles. If she cared, she'd make sure Mr. Hollingsworth was nowhere to be seen today.

Miles fidgeted with his blue gown, unraveling some of the thread by his hip. The girl sitting next to him, whom he'd never spoken to before, shivered as a cool breeze passed through the warm Toronto air, but Miles was still sweating. He could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead and his neck, and they had nothing to do with the weather. He couldn't turn his head; couldn't look away from the stage. His eyes stayed straight ahead out of fear for who he'd see in the audience. If he saw his dad in the crowd, he wouldn't be able to make it through the ceremony without causing a scene.

Fidgeting, sweating, shaking, feeling like his chest was closing in on him, like his heart was about to explode right out of his shirt. None of these sensations were new to Miles. They happened whenever he thought about his dad and what his dad had done to him. He made him this way.

 

_His mother forced him to go to a rehab facility, and he'd actually made an attempt to stay sober. For once in his life, Miles was proud of himself for his journey through sobriety. He'd only stayed in the hospital for two weeks so that he didn't lose his opportunity to graduate this year. Even after leaving, Miles stayed sober for over five months. No drugs or alcohol had entered his body besides his anxiety medication, which was something he was now prescribed. He still had urges, though. He once watched a couple at a local Italian restaurant share glasses of wine, and he'd desperately craved alcohol as he watched them. Miles had taken the bottle of wine from their table once they left. He pressed the lip of the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, desperately waiting for the warm liquid to fill his throat, but nothing came from the bottle. Miles felt a strange ping of relief when he found out the bottle was empty. He had been over two months sober at that point, and he was glad he didn't risk his sobriety. Although he couldn't even admit it to himself, being sober was the best thing to ever happen to him._

 

But all good things must come to an end. He'd hidden a flask in the pocket of his robe. _"Half an inch from everything on my dad's top shelf," he used to tell Esme proudly when he described this particular concoction._  Everyone around him was absorbed in their own lives. Talking about college plans, shaking hands with old teachers, crying to their friends about how much they'll miss each other. Miles rolled his eyes, and took the metallic flask from his robe. No one was paying attention to him. _No one ever payed attention to him._

He shook the container around a little, getting giddy as he heard the liquid slosh around. He twisted the cap off, not bothering to be discreet despite his surroundings, and he took a long swig. It burned. It always burned. His throat stung, but the feeling was quickly replaced by a warm sensation in his stomach and his head becoming lighter. 

That wasn't his first sip of the day, nor his second, or even his third. Miles has been tipsy since the moment he arrived. He bumped into nearly all of his fellow classmates on his way to his designated seat, and he'd managed to say a few slurred sentences to the girl sitting next to him. He put the flask back into the pocket on the inside of his gown, saving the last few sips for if he needed them throughout the ceremony. He knew he would.

Throughout it all, he still didn't dare look for his family in the rows of people. He became anxious for the ceremony to start, so he would stop having to distract himself from looking for his father. He checked his watch. Ironically, it was a gift from one of his father's many attempts to buy his forgiveness. The thought of where the watch came from, who it came from, made his jaw clench in anger. Although the metal was fairly cold, it felt like the watch was burning into his skin. It burned. _It burned, it burned, it burned._ As soon as he checked the time - _11:46, fourteen minutes until the ceremony starts_ \- he tore at the watch desperately, his fingers fumbling for the clasp in his fit of anger. Miles finally got the burden of the watch off his wrist, and a sense of relief washed over him once the accessory was off his no longer burning skin. But that wasn't enough- no, he had to get rid of it. Every second the watch was in his hand, his breathing became more frantic, his heartbeat accelerated dangerously. He didn't know if these were a result of the alcohol or his still growing anxiety, but he couldn't stop himself. He balled his fist up with the watch inside, and hurled it to the empty field next to where the ceremony was set up. Or, at least, he tried to throw it to the best of his abilities with all of the alcohol in his system impairing his coordination. In reality, he'd only managed to throw it a few meager feet until it hit the back of someone's head. Miles erupted in laughter as he realized who he'd just hit. _**Zig.**_

Zig quickly stood up and turned around to figure out what had hit him. His hand was holding the spot on the back of his head where Miles' watch had hit him. He had a look on his face that was a mixture of annoyance and a twinge pain. The look on Zig's face only made Miles laugh even harder, so that he was now visibly shaking with laughter. That only made it even easier for Zig to pin point Miles as the person who'd chucked an object at his head.

Clenching his teeth, Zig stormed over to where Miles was sitting. Miles fumbled a bit before successfully making it to his feet, but he was soon standing face to face with Zig.

"Really, man? A fucking watch? I thought we were over these stupid games. Maya and I broke up ages ago, and you're into guys now. I thought everything between us was fine now," Zig said all in one quick go, not bothering to take a breath until he'd said all he had to say.

 _You're into guys now?_   _Really?_ If Miles were sober, he would've been pissed at the fact that Zig assumed there were no sexual orientations besides straight or gay. But there was not an ounce of sobriety left in his body, so Zig's sentence barely even registered with him.

"It's not about you," Miles said, his words slurring and running together. The alcohol impaired his speech quite a bit, but he was still understandable. "It's about the stupid watch," he continued, his eyes narrowing on the stupid hunk of metal and technology in Zig's hand.

"Huh?" Zig asked, not able to draw the conclusion to why the watch was so awful to Miles, and why he'd had to hurl it at his head.

Miles opened his mouth to speak. He tried to back track and say that it was because he hated Zig, so he wouldn't have to go into detail. He really tried to get the words out, but his brain wasn't able to form a logical sentence. Instead, his hands started trembling and his breath became ragged. _No, Miles,_ he thought. _Do not do this here. Not in front of Zig. Not on your fucking graduation. It's your last day stuck here. Get through this._  He tried to talk himself out of what was already happening, as if it could make any difference. He closed his eyes shut and swallowed as a last attempt to stop himself, but it was too late. The tears in his eyes had now pooled over, streaming down his face for Zig to see.


	2. two

_Miles was never much of a crier, even as a kid. At eight years old, he tried to teach himself to ride his bike he'd just gotten for his birthday. It was a bright, shiny red with orange detailing resembling flames. Every time he'd ask his parents to teach him, his dad would be preoccupied with work and his mom would be too busy watching the twins. Miles stood on the sidewalk with the bike next to him, analyzing how he was supposed to get this thing to move with him on it. He climbed on the bike hesitantly and tried his best to balance himself so the bike didn't tip over. Feeling confident in his technique, he lifted his feet from the ground and started peddling. He made it a few triumphant feet before the bike tipped over and fell to the ground, causing Miles to smack his chin on the hard concrete. The fall busted his chin open to the point where he later had to be rushed to the hospital to get stitches. The impact knocked one of his lower teeth out completely and made some of his other teeth loose. Any eight year old would be in hysterics by now, but Miles' eyes weren't even watering. He could feel the burn and sting in his chin. He could see the scrapes up and down his legs. He could taste the blood in his mouth. But despite all of these terrifying sensations, Miles didn't move. He sat on the ashy ground, just watching the crimson drops fall from his chin and pool in the driveway. His face was blank, as was his mind. He was aware of the pain and that it should drive him crazy, but he didn't mind it for some reason. Throughout it all, he never shed a single tear._

Miles never would've expected himself to be crying on graduation day. He'd looked forward to this day for years, the day where he could leave his entire life behind and move on. It was supposed to be the best day of all of his eighteen years. But now he was standing in front of Zig with tears spilling from his eyes.

"I gotta go," Miles muttered almost inaudibly so that the tears weren't apparent in his voice. He quickly turned his back to Zig and started walking in the opposite direction of the graduation crowd. He wasn't even sure if Zig had heard him, but he just needed to get out of there.

He eventually made his way to the front of the school, which was surprisingly deserted. Once he sat down on one of the steps leading to the school entrance, he dug around in his pocket for his flask. His hands were shaky and there were tears pooling in his eyes that made it hard to see. When he heard footsteps approaching, he didn't bother to hide the flask and continued to twist the cap off. Even when the unknown person sat down beside him, he didn't avert his attention from the container now pressed against his lips.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Miles?" Zig said with a hint of disgust in his voice. _Or was it disappointment?_ Or maybe sadness? He didn't expect Zig to follow him all the way here.

Miles swallowed the fiery liquid and rubbed his eyes with his fists before looking over at the boy next to him. "Is there a problem?" He asked in a snarky tone of voice, trying his best to put on a front and cover up all of the emotions he's feeling.

"Weren't you in rehab? Aren't you not supposed to be doing this?" He used his hand to gesture to the flask that Miles gripped in his hand.

"And why do you care?" Miles chuckled, taking a long swig from the flask. He didn't know why Zig was showing any interest in his wellbeing. Nothing that was happening today made any sense to him.

"You need to stop it," Zig replied, and this time Miles could distinctly hear the anger in his voice. Before Miles had the chance to taste another sip of the alcohol, Zig pushed the flask out of his hand. It caught Miles off guard and he watched stunned as it clattered to the floor and spilled all of its liquid onto the steps. "I'm being serious, Miles. I know we don't get along but I can't just sit here and watch you self destruct," Zig pleaded.

Zig took a deep breath, probably expecting Miles to lash out at him. Miles' eyes stayed focus on the flask on the ground because he knew that if he looked anywhere else, he would break down. He blinked back a few tears in the hope that they would stop coming.

"Miles?" Zig whispered so softly that Miles could barely hear it. Hearing his name brought him back to reality and before he could stop himself, he choked out a sob. From there, the tears quickly spilled out of his eyes. He felt uncomfortable doing this in front of Zig, but he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. There was a faint touch on his shoulder and Miles looked up from the ground to see Zig had put his arm around him. He hated that Zig was seeing him like this. It's a way that not even his closest friends or family have seen him before. The look on Zig's face wasn't what he was expecting. Rather than awkward or confused, he looked disheartened and compassionate.

"What's wrong? Why are you drinking again?" Zig asked with a genuine sadness in his voice, glancing over at the ground where the mixture of alcohol was still trickling down the steps then back at the tearful boy next to him. His fingertips were rubbing small circles into Miles' shoulder which was enough to keep him content for a few moments longer.

"I feel like," Miles started before another wave of sobs came over him and made him unable to speak coherently. He shut his eyes tight and mentally told himself to **stop crying**. His vision was so clouded from a mixture of his tears and the alcohol that he forgot where he was for a moment. He leaned his head onto Zig's shoulder, but quickly pulled his head back up after remembering who it was next to him.

"It's okay," Zig said gently. "I don't mind." Now that he had permission, Miles let his head rest on the boy's shoulder as he continued sobbing. He watched as the tears ran down the silky fabric of Zig's graduation gown.

Miles never let himself cry. Never in the last ten years of his life could he remember a time when he had cried, and it was definitely never to this extent. Sometimes he thought he was unable to cry. So why was it that he was crying now, on graduation day, with Zig's arm around him? As he thought about it, his lips curled into a slight smile and a few chuckles came out between sobs.

"What's so funny?" Zig asked curiously, looking down to catch Miles' gaze.

"I never cry," Miles replied as he sat up, wiping the tears on his cheeks with the backs of his hands. "I don't even know why I'm crying so much."

"To make up for lost time, I suppose," Zig replied, a relieved smile on his face. "You've tried too hard to hold it and you just couldn't do it anymore. It happens to the best of us."

Miles nodded, feeling strangely comforted by Zig's words and his presence in general.

"I know about your dad," Zig said after a minute or two of silence between them. "Maya told me some of the things he did to you. It's awful. I understand why you went all out with the substance use. I understand a lot of the things you did that I used to hate you for."

"Thanks," Miles muttered. He wasn't sure why Zig was telling him this.

"I've been through a lot too, you know. My home situation is completely different, but it's still horrible," Zig continued. "I've been trapped in a cycle, kind of like how you are with alcohol. It's hard to stop, but you just have to be strong enough to get yourself out of it." He paused for a moment before quietly adding, "I know you're strong enough."

Miles wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear the last part or if that was just Zig talking to himself. Either way, it made him smile. He finally got the courage to look Zig in the eyes and they just sat there looking at each other for a while. Miles' stomach was warm from the alcohol, looking at Zig made it feel even more fuzzy. His head was hazy, but he felt himself compelled to move closer to Zig. Without a second thought, he moved so his shoulder was touching Zig's.

The warmth of the hand on his shoulder went away and Miles saw Zig getting up on his feet. "Oh, um, sorry, but I gotta get back to the ceremony," Zig stuttered as he noticed the confused look on Miles' face.

Before Miles had the chance to speak, Zig was walking away from him. He sat there on the step wondering what he did to make Zig want to leave so quickly. He picked the flask off of the ground and shook it to see if there was anything left in it. Sadly, there wasn't.

He'll just have to hope he already had enough to get him through the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please *please* comment or leave kudos to let me know if I should continue this story. I probably will because I really enjoy writing it, but any support will encourage me to write more. Also comment any questions/comments/concerns/etc. Thank you so much for reading! You can find me on Twitter at @degraasi.


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